


Terrible, Beautiful, Maddening

by QueenOfHz



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Spoilers for BL route, hegeleth, so slow, this is for all you monsterlovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2020-10-20 05:49:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfHz/pseuds/QueenOfHz
Summary: “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear.”― H.P. LovecraftThe second oldest is love.Canon-divergent at the end of Azure Moon.





	1. Out of Enbarr

A rosy hue was just barely lighting the eastern sky when the mercenary left Enbarr, looking for answers to questions she did not yet know how to ask. 

The former capital of the Empire may have been under occupation by Kingdom troops, but for the common folk, life must continue as usual. The street vendors’ food tasted the same whether the shade of a red or a blue banner fell across their stalls. Kingdom horses left the same droppings on the cobblestones as imperial steeds, and they all went into the same street cleaner’s cart at the end of the day.

She clung to the edges of the streets, ducking her hooded head further down and slinking into the shadows when a patrolling guard came into view. If stopped, a quick reveal of her signature green hair would have sufficed to allow her to continue on her way unimpeded, but that would take precious time from her journey away from the city, and leave unwanted gossip that Seteth would no doubt have to clean up.

A pang of guilt threaded through her chest when she thought of Seteth. He had been shouldering the majority of the duties that came with leading the Church; although it was Rhea’s wish that she replace her as Archbishop when the time came, she knew very little of the actual tenets of the faith due to her isolated upbringing. Not that Seteth ever complained, of course. He was the type of person that thrived on being busy and having innumerable responsibilities, though he would be hard-pressed to admit it. 

Technically, she wasn’t even officially the Archbishop yet. Rhea had been found, deep in the dungeons underneath the palace, weak and in no shape to lead the Church. Plans to officially hand over the reins had already been put in motion; once Rhea had recuperated enough to be seen in public and crown the new King of Fodlan, the heavy mantle of the church would be laid upon her shoulders.

* * *

_ “Seteth. May I ask you a favor?” The question lies strangely in her mouth. She is not usually one to ask for favors. _

_ “What is it, my friend? You know I will do my best to accommodate.” _

_ Hesitation. “I need… I need some space.” _

_ He frowns, not understanding. “Space? We do all need quiet moments to ourselves from time to time. I have found the palace gardens to be particularly peaceful when I am in need of respite.” _

_ A sigh. “No, that’s not it. I need to leave. I need time to… process. By myself.” _

_ “Leave? To where? For how long?” She winces at the slight tone of panic in his voice. _

_ “I don’t know where, really. Anywhere where people don’t call me ‘Professor’ or ‘my lady,’ I suppose.” She hesitantly meets his eyes. “And it wouldn’t be for five years again. I can promise you that. Two or three months at most. Before winter arrives.” _

_ He puts his forehead in his hand and exhales. “I understand the war has been hard, Byleth.” He is one of the few people who actually do address her by her name. “You, perhaps most of all, have been shouldering the greatest burden of all of us, between commanding the army and acting as a figurehead for the church. I sincerely apologize if your personal needs have gone unnoticed during this process, and I cannot stop you from taking a period of time to yourself. However, I would be remiss if I did not ask you to reconsider. There is still so much work to be done to repair relations between the Kingdom and former imperial lands. Not to mention it would be devastating to the church if anything were to befoul you and we had no way of knowing.” _

_ “I understand your position, Seteth. And please know that I take no pleasure in adding to your responsibilities. But there is… something I need to do.” _

_ He contemplated her words. Softly, “I don’t suppose this something has anything to do with the recent reports of mutilated livestock being reported from rural territories.” _

_ She remained silent. _

_ A defeated sigh. “Very well. You have earned my trust twice over, and I know once you set your mind on something, the goddess herself cannot sway your decision. I only ask that you refrain from leaving any… mess… that would have to be cleaned up.” _

_ A nod. “Thank you, Seteth.” _

* * *

The blushing sky had evolved into a full palette of warm colors by the time she reached the city gate. Most traffic at this hour was entering the city: farmers bringing cattle in to be sold at the butcher, merchants pushing carts of their wares to be sold in the marketplace. A handful of guards, clad in recently issued blue tabards, were busy inspecting carts as they entered the city. Accounting for persons exiting the city was not a priority, and a lone person travelling on foot would have no cause to be questioned. Dodging a pair of children, clearly excited to spend a day in the capital, and slipping through the narrow space between a carriage and the stone archway of the gate, Byleth stepped beyond the walls that she never wanted to be enclosed within again.

Ragged, unplanned settlements where the poorest lived spread out a mile or so from the gate. Most people living here worked in the city but were unable to afford property and safety within Enbarr proper. Life woke up early here, already she could see women hanging up the day’s laundry, men slurping down a lean breakfast before beginning their day of work.

A mangy dog chewing on a scrap of cloth thumped his tail at Byleth as she walked by. Dust kicked up under her feet and hung heavily in the air, painting her boots the color of a rusted sword. She knew the ground wouldn’t have to wait long for its thirst to be quenched, however; the angry red sky was a sign that late summer showers were soon to follow.

The patched and weary shacks gave way to fields of crops, or what was left of them. What hadn’t been harvested prematurely to feed increasingly desperate imperial troops had been trampled or burned by the zealous kingdom army on their march to Enbarr. Despite the destruction, Byleth could see farmers dotting the landscape, tilling the fields, guiding work horses, clearing destroyed vegetation. It would be a meagre winter in the south; efforts had been put underway to ration what remained of imperial food stores but it was a raw fact that many throughout Fodlan would not live to see the spring.

Byleth followed the road, rutted from centuries of use, as it lazily curved northward. She walked at a steady pace; she had a general destination in mind, but for once in many moons there was no imminent need to reach a particular location. She travelled light: a basic pack that carried survival necessities, and a humble sword on her belt, much like the blade she once wielded as a mercenary. The Sword of the Creator had been left in Seteth’s care. The attention that weapon would bring would certainly outweigh its usefulness, and she had a feeling she would not have need of its power for a long time.

* * *

_ “So… That grotesque creature was Edelgard…” _

_ They stand just inside the palace throne room. She can see Dimitri’s in rough shape but he hides it well. Most people wouldn’t notice the way he favors his left side, the slight tremble in his grip on Areadbhar. She is not most people. If their comrades had been as perceptive as she, they probably would have not let only the two of them enter the throne room alone. As it is, they are busy holding off reinforcements coming from upstairs, downstairs, and several hidden passages no doubt designed to make the palace difficult to secure to those unfamiliar with it. _

_ Despite her position, Edelgard has surprisingly little defences in her throneroom. That is, if the nightmarish figure standing, no- hovering just in front of the Adrestian throne could still be called Edelgard. If it were not for the golden horns atop her stark white hair, she would be unrecognizable as the student she taught years ago at Garreg Mach. _

_ A twisted snarl echoes through the chamber: “These fools are caught up in the sacrifices at hand and cannot see the future ramifications at stake… We must bury them.” Each word is inhuman, a mangled echo of the calm, evaluating girl she once rewound time itself to save. _

_ “We must trample the past underfoot, and move onward to a brighter tomorrow!” The words are forceful but ultimately hollow; it is but the snarl of a cornered and desperate animal. _

_ Nevertheless, her words have their desired effect on the remaining guards in the room, who begin to advance toward the intruders. _

* * *

Just as she had predicted, by early afternoon the sky had opened to a downpour. Byleth trudged along, avoiding the muddiest bits of the road. Before leaving Enbarr, she had traded her signature fishnet stockings and coat for trousers and a hooded cloak that had been treated to resist water. Even so, a damp chill crept its way through her body. She stuck her hands in her armpits as she walked to keep them warm. 

The wet squelch of hooves in mud steadily came from behind her, slowing as they neared. A soft “Whoa, there!” and the snorting of horses followed as a cart pulled alongside her. Keeping a hand on her blade underneath her cloak, she turned her body to allow the cart to pass.

Instead of continuing, however, the cart creaked to a halt. The driver, a heavyset, bearded man, pulled up his hood, blinking rain out of his eyes. “Hello there, friend! Not great weather to be taking a walk in, is it? Hop in and we’ll give you a lift to Belfort.” He jerked his head to the back of the open cart, where a handful of drenched fieldhands sat. “‘Fraid it’s not much shelter from the rain, but it’ll save your feet some work, eh?”

Byleth nodded and let out a brief “Thank you,” before climbing into the back of the cart, where the others shuffled to make room. A few peered at her curiously when the hilt of her sword came into view.

“You a mercenary or somethin’?” A young woman with a dark braid sat on the bench across from her. Her face was lined beyond her years, a sign of a life of hard work outdoors. 

“I am.”

“Don’t see many of you guys outside of a company anymore, most I figure banded together to join the war.”

“I used to be in a company, but…” Byleth trailed off, leaving the woman to draw her own conclusions. It wasn’t exactly a lie anyway.

“Yeah, yeah, I get ya’. Well, we all do what we can to survive. Looks like the goddess was looking out for you.” 

The corner of Byleth’s mouth quirked up at the mention of the goddess but she did not reply.

“So where’re you headed now? I hear there’s a need for blades up north in the old Alliance.”

Byleth blinked and contemplated for a moment. “North,” she confirmed. “I’m tracking… someone.” 

She perked up at this; Byleth realized this was probably the most interesting interaction the woman had had all day.

“Oh, hunting for a bounty, eh? Tell me what they look like, maybe I’ve seen them. A lot of people pass through on the way out of the capital, you know.”

Byleth shook her head slowly. “They didn’t.”

The woman rolled her eyes, but a sly smirk graced her face. “All right, all right, keep your secrets. My ma always did say I ask too many questions for my own good.” She slumped back against the rail of the cart, toying with her braid. Her hair was a similar shade to what Byleth used to see in the mirror herself.

Byleth raised her eyes to the sky. The rain didn’t look to be letting up any time soon. “How far is it to, um...” 

“Belfort. About thirty minutes at the rate we’re goin’. Normally, most travellers from the capital push on a few hours more to Willsfeldt, but I reckon this,” she gestured towards the heavens, “is going to last into the night...” The woman chattered on amicably, Byleth nodding along but only half listening. The names of towns, cities, rivers, entered and left Byleth’s mind like dry leaves. She had never had to worry about the specifics of location names or borders when she was a mercenary. Even the odd times a job separated her from Jeralt, she would have no trouble navigating using landmarks and the stars. 

“... anyway if you’re looking for a place to stay for the night, my uncle’s inn is your best, well, _ only _ option.” The woman stopped talking, drawing Byleth’s attention away from her thoughts.

“Yes. That will be fine.” Byleth pulled her hood further down over her eyes in an attempt to signal that she was no longer interested in conversation.

Another grin. “Woman of few words, eh? Don’t worry, I can take a hint. I’ll buy you a pint at the inn to make up for talkin’ your ear off.” She chuckled and closed her eyes, not seeming to mind the rain in the least.

They continued the rest of the way in soggy silence.


	2. Something in the Woods

_ The Sword of the Creator pulses warm in her hands as she swings it above her head, once, twice, lashing and striking the masked mage in front of her. The crackling violet magic at his fingertips is extinguished as he slams into one of the columns adorning the throne room. He slumps to the floor, leaving a crimson streak on the cold marble. _

_ The nightmarish creature across the room snarls, hurling a blast of screaming magic at them. “Dimitri! On your right!” She yells, but he is already dodging, rolling, and leaping back to his feet to plunge Areadbhar into the chest of another imperial soldier. The air is acrid in the wake of the blast and burns her throat. _

_ They cut their way closer to the hovering form once known as Edelgard. The beast’s tail lashes in frustration as yet another burning blast is dodged by Dimitri. This time, however, he is a hair slower, and the end of his cloak takes the blow, burning a crescent shape into the end of it. He swats at the smouldering blue fabric and in his distraction he doesn’t notice one of the imperial soldiers raising their axe behind him. But she does. _

_ “Drop!” Immediately he complies and she lobs a bolt of lightning from her hands, knocking the enemy off their feet and they move no more. _

_ She rushes up to him, dodging magic cast from the remaining clutch of mages in the center of the room, and reaches her hand out to bring the prince back to his feet. Together they run behind the nearest pillar a few feet away. _

_ “Thank you, professor,” he grunts, wiping a smear of blood off his face with the back of his gloved hand. She’s been wounded herself, her left arm burns where an errant fireball grazed her, and she’s bleeding from several gashes from blades that made it past her armor. She conjures up a basic healing spell, patching their wounds with a glowing white light. Mercedes or Flayn will have to take a closer look later, but for now it does the job. _

_ “We must finish this, Professor. The Edelgard we once knew is long gone.” She nods, but can’t help feeling like there could have been another way to avoid this twisted path of fate. _

* * *

Byleth woke to the steady _ plip-plop _ of water in a mostly-full bucket. The best inn in town didn’t have to worry about keeping its roof leak-free when it also happened to be the _ only _ inn in town. The drips, not as frequent as the night before, signaled the downpour had decided to let up. 

She blinked the sleep out of her eyes as she visually located her sword, propped against the bedside table. An old habit drilled into her by Jeralt: “Always know where your blade is, and always keep it within arm’s reach, especially when among strangers.” At the thought of strangers, her brain registered the second body in the bed beginning to stir next to her.

“Mornin’, you,” the woman next to her whispered, ghosting her fingers over Byleth’s muscled abdomen. “How’d you sleep?” 

Byleth grunted and closed her eyes again.

The woman-- did she say her name was Odette? Odelle? It didn’t really matter, she supposed-- tried again, this time, tracing a finger up a particularly jagged scar that followed her collarbone and reached toward her heart. “How’d you get this one? Looks pretty nasty.”

Byleth huffed, rolling over and swinging her legs over the side of the bed in one fluid motion. The room had a draft, and the cool air against her bare skin chased away the last remnants of sleep clouding her mind. “I need to get going,” she intoned, running her hands through her pale hair. 

A disappointed hum came from behind her. “Yeah, I get it.” The bed shifted with the removal of weight. She could hear the sound of clothes being found and pulled back on behind her. 

Byleth massaged her forehead, contemplating the floor. “Um… Thanks.” It came out awkwardly, she had never been good at these things. She doubted it would be any less awkward if she was able to process emotions properly.

The shuffling of clothes paused for a moment, then resumed. Floorboards creaked towards the door, and the latch opened with a click.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, mercenary.” And she was alone in the room.

* * *

_ She peers around the pillar they’re using as cover. The remaining forces between them and Edelgard have dwindled to a handful of masked mages. They circle around a single one who Byleth presumes is their commander. She can see by now most of them don’t have enough energy to cast spells at them from their distance. Their leader, however, is more difficult for her to read. She notes that he is not wearing the standard issue imperial mage uniform. _

_ “Focus on taking out the weaker ones around the edge. I’ll engage their leader. Ready?” _

_ Dimitri nods an affirmative. She raises her sword and darts out from behind the marble column, Dimitri following suit from the opposite direction. The mage closest to her raises his hand to release a spell, but before he can let it go, she is on top of him and he collapses. _

_ Now, standing so close to their leader, she can see how his dress differs from the others. Rather than the standard imperial black with red trim, his black robes are detailed in gold patterns. Looking closer, the patterns remind her of eyes staring back at her. Like a whisper of a forgotten dream, a familiar feeling that she’s seen something like this before brushes her mind. _

_ But this is not the time nor place to ponder forgotten memories, and she is immediately dodging a purple bolt of magic from the mage’s outstretched hand. She slashes at him, but his heavy cloak takes most of the damage. _

_ He laughs as he dashes backwards away from her, his masked face distorting his voice into a mocking tone that grates on her ears. “Oh my, it looks like her Majesty’s plan isn’t working out as well as she’d anticipated!” He laughs as another magical blast from Edelgard shrieks over his head, narrowly missing her. _

_ “Graaaagh!” With a roar, next to her, Dimitri pulls his lance out of the last of the surrounding mages. He pulls his arm back and launches it at the retreating mage. Just before it hits its mark however, the mage snaps his fingers and Warps away mid-cackle. _

* * *

The rain finally ceased a couple hours after leaving Belfort. Byleth was grateful; her water-resistant cloak was unfortunately not water-proof, and enough dampness had made its way underneath to make her a bit more than mildly uncomfortable. 

Around noon, the sun managed to make an appearance, and a warm breeze did its best to dry her. The fields of ruined crops sloped gently downward ahead of her, and in the distance she could see a river crossed by a wooden bridge. Upon reaching the bridge, however, she turned left and walked along a faint, narrow path that followed the winding river, as the innkeeper in Belford had directed her: “Ayuh, just follow that path there, say about three miles, an’ you’ll run into ol’ Ulag. Fair warnin’, he’s gone quite mad livin’ out there on his own since his wife passed, goddess bless her soul.”

As Byleth made her way along the path, low bushes changed to small trees, which eventually gave way to a loose grove. She could tell this path was old, but infrequently used, with the occasional rotted fencepost poking out of the ground at an angle, and overgrowth that had begun to retake what it once owned.

The first sign of human life she came upon was a wooden board nailed to a knotted tree. “No Trespasing” was carved into it in shakey gouges. She ignored it and continued on.

The next warning was a series of animal skulls impaled on rusty lances stuck in the ground. 

Finally, a lopsided stone shack came into view through the trees. She sidestepped an obvious tripwire set a few inches off the ground, a quick glance showed her it was attached to several strings of bones hanging from the surrounding trees that would make a good deal of noise if they were disturbed. She walked closer towards the building, eyes searching for the resident.

“That’s far enough, missy,” a voice croaked from behind her. Spinning around, she could not locate the source of the voice until she raised her eyes above her.

Sitting several feet up in a tree was an old man pointing a drawn bow at her. “Can ye’ not read?

Disregarding his question, she spoke, loud enough for him to hear her up in the tree. “Are you Ulag? I was told you had seen a strange creature around here a month or so ago.”

The man’s bow went slack as he peered at her. “A ‘strange creature?!’ Bah!” He hawked a glob of spit at the ground. “That’s no way to talk about a man’s wife, you know!” 

Byleth blinked. “Your wife?”

Ulag squinted at her, “Aye, my wife. You deaf as well as blind, too?” He dropped out of the tree, landing on his feet with the grace a man of his age should not have possessed. “Who are you, anyway? Did _ they _ send you to spy on me?” His posture grew slouched, and his eyes darted around, searching for some unseen threat.

“I don’t know who _ they _ are,” she monotoned. “Can you tell me about your wife?”

At the mention of his wife, his demeanor changed again. He sat back on a log, eyes misty amd far away. “Oh, she’s just the loveliest, the sweetest girl a man could ask for. She has soft, white hair, and has always loved to dress up in that pretty gown of hers. That’s how I knew it was her, of course.” 

“You knew?”

“Well of course I did! I’d be able to recognize my own wife, wouldn’t I? Who are you to come here, asking so many questions, anyway? You’re not trying to seduce her are you?” He jumped up from the log in a frenzy, waving his bow. “Don’t test me missy! Ol’ Ulag’s still got fire in his bones yet!”

Byleth stepped back a few paces, unfazed. “I’m not seducing anyone. I’m tracking a creature that may have passed through this area several weeks ago. The innkeeper in Belfort mentioned you told him that you saw something unexplainable in the woods here, which caused me to investigate.” 

Focused again, Ulag shook his head. “The only unexplainable thing here is you insisting my wife is some sort of monster! I saw her clear as day! Well, it was night. But it was a full moon! She was there, I swear on my life!” He gestured toward a clearing in the trees where several stumps of broken trees poked out of the ground like tombstones. 

“You only saw her the once?”

“There I was, sleeping in my bed. Next thing I know, Everett over there,” he pointed over his shoulder at possibly the oldest donkey Byleth had ever seen, “he starts screaming bloody murder. Now, I figure it’s a bear, ain’t seen one in a while but sometimes they get brave. So I grab my old pot and a stick, you know just to scare it off, but when I turn the corner, there she is! I know, I know, they all say ol’ Ulag’s damn near pickled himself in drink. But so what?! I ain’t got no kids, ain’t got nobody no more. Everett here’s not the best at conversation neither.”

Byleth interrupted his rambling, trying to keep the old man on topic. “Ulag. What did you see?”

“Oh, oh right. I saw her! Veiled in moonlight, a golden halo atop her head, and wings of an angel. But she startled me so, I dropped my pot, and quick as a whip, she was gone, back into the darkness.” His voice cracked and Byleth realized he had begun to tremble. “Ever since she got sick, terribly sick, she’s been hiding from me. She’s shy, you know. But now that I saw her I know she’s watching out for me. I just wish she’d come home...” His voice trails off into a whisper.

Byleth had heard enough. “Thank you for telling me of this. Take care of yourself, Ulag.” Circling him, she moved to return the way she had come. 

“Wait,” He spoke as she passed him. “Won’t you stay for a cup of tea?”

Wordlessly, she continued walking.

* * *

_ “No! But..” Edelgard’s cry echoes through the chamber, laced with fury and frustration, her eyes searching for any sign that the mage still remains in the room, but it is in vain. _

_ Dimitri picks up his lance from the ground and points it at her. “To be changed beyond all recognition. That is what lies at the end of the ideals you served so diligently. I have no pity for one such as you. If that is the future you hoped for, then you deserve no compassion.” The creature remains silent, her features set in determination. _

_He charges up the stairs towards the emperor, and she follows a few paces behind. Her calf muscles burn from exhaustion, and she knows Dimitri must be in an even worse state. Edelgard hangs in the air above them, haloed in harsh light streaming from the stained-glass window behind her, a twisted illusion of an angel._

_They reach her, and in tandem, swing their weapons. She lets out a snarl, swatting them with clawed hands wreathed in violet magic. They strike again, and again. Her thick, hide-like armor withstands most of the damage, even from their holy relics, but more and more gashes break through, each one punctuated by a gasp of pain. _

_Curiously, she notices a pattern. When both of them rush to attack together, Edelgard favors defending and retaliating against Dimitri, allowing the Sword of the Creator to pierce her armor. Desperately, she fights on, trying to ignore the way the monster’s burning red eyes bore into her unbeating heart._

* * *

“It was just the strangest thing. Never seen anything like it in my life. Pa said it must have been the wolves, but I’ve seen wolf tracks and those weren’t made by any wolf I ever heard of.” 

Byleth was standing just outside a stone-fenced corral, currently home to half a dozen squealing pigs. The farmer, a young man barely out of his teens and sprouting a patchy beard, continued to shovel foul-smelling mud over his shoulder as he spoke.

“If not wolves what would you say the tracks looked like?” Byleth asked, but she already knew what his answer would be.

“That’s the thing, see. They almost looked like they were made by a human, as if they were walking on their toes, with their heel raised up, you know? But of course the size of them would make them stand fifteen, twenty feet tall.” He scoffed, shaking his head. 

She nodded, confirming her suspicions. “Thank you for your time.”

He squinted at her in the late afternoon sun, planting his shovel in the ground and leaning on it. “You’re trying to find this thing, yeah? If you know what it is, I’d be grateful if you told me. Myself and others around here can’t hardly afford to lose more livestock, not with things spread thin as they are right now.”

Byleth shrugged noncommittally; “It’s been moving steadily north for the last few months, so I doubt any of your pigs will become a second course meal.”

“That’s comforting, but you still haven’t told me what it is. A bear?” He wiped a line of sweat off his brow, leaving a brown smear across it.

“A bear.” Even she knew her response was less than convincing. A pale lock of flyaway hair blew into her vision. As they stood there, a dark stormfront had rolled in from the east, the sky there nearly black. “Wind’s howling.”

“Aye. Better get a hustle on if you’re looking to make it to a dry bed in time. Next town’s an hour’s walk from here.” 

With that, Byleth set off. The information she received from the farmer was nothing new. One of his pigs, or what was left of it, had been found a week ago, torn to shreds. Mysteriously, there was no way he could tell how the pig managed to escape it’s pen or if the predator had broken in, as the gate had still been locked securely that morning and there was no sign of a broken fence. It was as if something had simply plucked the animal from over the top of the pen.

Byleth had been collecting reports like these for several weeks, a mutilated farm animal here, some strange tracks there. Other than Ulag, the only other person who witnessed the creature was a young girl who had decided to take a shortcut through the forest from her grandmother’s house. She hadn’t stopped crying for three days. 

Gradually, the time between sightings and Byleth’s arrival shortened, from almost two months at the beginning, until now, where she estimated she was less than a week behind. At first, most people only reported tracks, or dogs howling at some unseen presence in the forest. Occasionally a single cow or sheep would go missing, the only exception occurring on the same night the young girl saw the monster in the woods. A whole herd of cattle had been destroyed shortly after. Most had not been eaten at all, but torn apart seemingly by pure rage. This incident was most concerning to Byleth, and after that she had quickened her pace and endeavored to close the distance between her and her quarry.

All of these sightings loosely meandered north, and now Byleth was somewhere in the western reaches of Varley territory from what she could tell. In the distance, she could see the foothills that would roll into the mountain range that divided Fodlan and where Garreg Mach monastery was nestled deep within. 

A fat raindrop landed squarely on her nose, breaking her from her silent contemplation and she knew she would not make it warm and dry to the town that night.

* * *

_ They fight for several torturous minutes, neither side gaining substantial ground over the other. They are much faster than Edelgard in this form and strike her more often than not, but her armored body is able to withstand the brunt of their blows. _

_Next to her, Dimitri’s movements grow more harried; he has taken more hits than her and he holds his body at an angle that implies more than one of his bones is broken. For a moment she can see a flash of the old Dimitri, the ghoul that she found lurking in the Goddess Tower months ago. With a strained yell, he leaps at Edelgard, his lance miraculously finding purchase between the plates of armor at her shoulder and tearing a gash across the spot where glaring red energy shines through._

_Edelgard screams, the wound leaking an inky black liquid, and reflexively reaches her hand out, her whole palm enclosing Dimitri’s arm that holds Areadbhar, and flings him across the platform they stand on. His body land out of sight with a sickening thud that echoes through the room. She calls out his name, but there is only silence. She offers up a quick prayer that he is not dead, in the slim chance that Sothis can somehow hear it._

_She turns back to Edelgard, bracing for a strike, but it does not come. She realizes that while she was distracted by Dimitri’s fall, the emperor could have taken several opportunities to strike her. But she did not. Rather, Edelgard floats in place, trembling with exhaustion. Her face is downcast, almost expressionless but for a slight frown. _

_“Facing you, I grow weak.” _

_The words reverberate sorrowfully and a pit grows in her stomach with the knowledge of what she must do. She raises her sword, and a clawed hand lifts to strike._

* * *

With a quick spark, flint met steel and her campfire was set ablaze. Byleth had finally reached the edge of Fodlan’s central mountain range, and she had set up camp on a flat overhang halfway up a mountain at the mouth of the valley. 

The sun was just beginning its final descent on the horizon, and from her perch above the valley she could see the vibrant colors of the trees, indicating the Wyvern Moon was nearly at its close. As if on cue, a flock of wyverns swooped over the far end of the valley, heading south, not wishing to be the last ones caught in the chill of the Red Wolf Moon. 

She pulled the tie out of her pale hair and let it fluff out; it had begun to grow longer than she normally kept it but for reasons unknown to her, she had yet to cut it and instead had been tying it back. She couldn’t remember ever wanting to cut her hair at all, in fact. As a child, Jeralt would give her a trim once in awhile to keep it out of her eyes, and later on she only kept it at a manageable length to avoid getting in the way during battle. She supposed now there wouldn’t be many battles the future Archbishop needed to involve herself in. Perhaps she would let it grow out. 

Byleth leaned back against a tree, munching on the last of her bread she had bought two days ago at a small mining camp, the last sign of civilization since entering the mountains. It would only be three or four more days to Garreg Mach, although that would be rough travel as there were no roads on this side of the monastery. She supposed it was fortunate that she had naturally ended up so close to where she would have to return anyway, but a faint feeling of melancholy still settled in her chest.

The sun finally dipped below the valley walls, and Byleth reached for more firewood to increase the blaze. Normally, it would be unnecessary to make a fire this large, unwise in fact, as being high up on the mountain would make one a shining beacon for any potential bandits or thugs. This time, however, she wanted to be seen. Even two days away was too close to civilization for her liking, especially after witnessing the destruction of the cattle herd that was triggered by getting too near to one small girl. 

No, this campfire was a warning. 

She waited and listened, and the sun dropped lower, taking the last colors of daylight with it. Not long after the stars had appeared in the sky, she heard what she was waiting for. On the opposite side of the valley, the sound of trees, snapping, and crashing to the forest floor echoed through the night. The sounds grew fainter as they moved further away, until there was silence again.

Byleth slipped into dreams, regretting that her journey was nearing an end.

* * *

_ This time, she extends the Sword of the Creator to its full length, swinging it up and around the floating figure in front of her. It wraps itself around the towering creature and tightens, eliciting monstrous gasps as each section of the blade digs itself into flesh. She wrenches the sword downward and Edelgard is dragged to the ground, crashing to her knees. _

_She bites back the taste of blood in her mouth and only just now realizes a sharp pain in her chest. In the struggle, a clawed hand has pierced through her armor, through her chest where her unbeating heart lay. _

_She looks up at Edelgard, who still towers over her even kneeling. The creature struggles against her binds weakly, but it only twists itself tighter; a morbid serpent wrapping around its prey. _

_Glowing red eyes meet green, and despite the war, despite not knowing if Dimitri still lived, within the black depths she can still see the eyes of the girl she saved all those years ago from a bandit attack. _

_She can do this no longer._

_With a flick of her wrist, she withdraws her sword, releasing the monster before her. She raises it up again, and Edelgard flinches, anticipating a final strike, but it does not come. _

_The Sword of the Creator extends, reaching towards a new target. It arcs beyond the platform they stand on, and reaches the stained glass window high above them. The glass shatters, showering them in multicolored shards. The sudden increase in light pains her eyes and she closes them for a moment. She is tired, so very tired._

_A cold, yet burning sensation fills her chest as the claws within it are withdrawn and she stumbles, now she is the one on her knees. She can feel her vision grow hazy as a wet warmth bleeds from her wound, staining her white collar crimson. She sees wings outlined in the blurred light of the window, and the last thing she remembers is drawing on her last reserves of magic to call down a Ragnarok spell just a few feet away where Edelgard had been moments before._

_Then, there is nothing._

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind notes you guys left, it really means a lot to me!
> 
> Find me @Queen_of_Hz on Twitter!


	3. (fear)

_ Run. _

_ Go. _

_ Eat_. _ Feast. _

(no)

_ Run _ then. They will kill you.

(who)

Them_ . _ The ones who made you, used you, betrayed you.

_ Run. _

_ Eat. _

(...)

_ Run_.

(where)

Away.

_ Eat_. Aren’t you hungry? _ Feast. _Look how they flee from you. Hear how they scream at the sight of you.

(no)

Yes. You must eat. Don’t they smell delicious?

(..._ no _)

Yes they do. I know you.

(I don’t want to hurt anyone)

Oh, but they hurt you so. Wouldn’t it be nice to make them hurt? Snap their bones. Slice them open. Make them scream.

(these people did not hurt me)

They all will hurt you in the end. You tried to help them. What did it get you?

(...pain)

Pain.

Now _ run. _You are being hunted.

(by who)

You know. The one who you could not have. Can you not hear it?

(hear what)

The silence where her heart should be. 

_ Run._

(she didn’t kill me before)

She is toying with you. She is hunting you. She will use you.

_ Run. _

(...she will not)

She will betray you. Just like they did. You will be a tool, a weapon.

(...)

_ Run. _You know I am right.

(who are you)

I am you.


	4. Cornered

_ Jeralt, famed Blade Breaker, former Captain of the Knights of Seiros, and captain of the Silver Wolves mercenary company, has held many titles throughout his many years. But there is only one that would make him stop midway through a battle briefing with his company lieutenants and, most importantly, set down his morning coffee. _

_ “Dad!” _

_ His men are confused at first as to why he stops mid-sentence, but it is made clear to them after following his gaze and spotting the familiar head of dark hair running full-tilt through the mercenary camp. Barely eight years old, the small girl is sure-footed and possesses an almost uncanny amount of grace, deftly leaping over piles of firewood and darting between unaware soldiers, causing them to stumble to stay on their feet. _

_ “Dad!” She repeats again upon reaching him, skidding to a sharp halt, not short of breath in the slightest despite her dash across the camp.  _

_ “What is it, kiddo?” His voice is cheerful, but inwardly he is more than a bit alarmed at the uncharacteristic exclamation of his name not once, but twice. _

_ She looks up at him, clenching and unclenching her fists as she takes a moment to find the words. “In… In the woods.” She turns slightly and points behind her. _

_ “What’s in the woods?” He says patiently, encouraging his daughter to elaborate. If Byleth had been like most children, he would have told her to wait until his meeting was over, but Byleth was not like most children. It would not be uncommon for her to go the whole day without talking, and when she did decide to speak it was never more than the minimum necessary to get her point across.  _

_ “A fox. It’s hurt.” She clutches the edge of her tunic and only now does he notice the blood on her hand. _

_ He sighs. “Looks like you’re hurt too, kiddo.” She looks at her hand and then back at him, nodding blankly. He turns back to his men. “Okay, boys, I think we’re about done here anyway. Vilja, Edran, make sure all the horses and wagons are inspected and ready to set out tomorrow. Caius, take a few men and scout the forest ahead, report back to me this evening.” _

_ Saluting, his lieutenants disband. Jeralt swigs the last of his coffee in a single lukewarm gulp and pats Byleth on the shoulder. “Let’s get that hand looked at, and then we’ll go see what we can do about this fox, all right?” Byleth nods and follows her father to the medical tent. _

_ Once her hand is cleaned and bandaged up, Byleth leads her father out of the mercenary camp and into the thick pine forest surrounding it. They travel in silence for a good ten minutes, the girl occasionally glancing behind her to ensure Jeralt is keeping up. He feels a small pang of parental guilt for letting his child wander so far unsupervised, but in truth she is far more capable of spending the day alone in the woods than many grown adults he has met. To this day she has never gotten lost, and is always sure to return before sundown. She is also quite proficient with the small dagger on her hip, although he has told her only to use it in self-defense as a last resort. _

_ They slow as they approach an outcropping of moss-covered rocks in a relatively clear area of the forest. Byleth stops a few paces away from it and points towards where two rocks have fallen against each other, forming a small cave less than two feet high. The dried pine needles carpeting the ground have been scraped aside in front of the cave, exposing the dirt beneath, as if something has been thrashing about. _

_ “It was caught by the wire, but it went in there when I tried to free it.” _

_ “And I suppose that’s when it decided to take a nip out of you, then?” _

_ Byleth nods and rubs at her bandaged hand. Jeralt steps closer to the rocks and spies a thin wire tied to a nearby sapling, pulled taut and leading into the small cave. “Did you set this?” _

_ “I thought it was a rabbit den. Caius showed me how.” _

_ “What he should have taught you is to be more careful when dealing with animals that can fight back,” Jeralt says, making a mental note to have a discussion with Caius about appropriate lessons to teach his daughter. He crouches down and peers into the cave. He can just make out the huddled form of the fox, ears pressed backward and mouth opened in a stressed pant.  _

_ Byleth kneels down on the ground next to him to get a better view.  _

_ “Now, reaching a hand in there is just asking to receive another bite, so we’re going to have to get it to come out on its own. I want you to untie the wire at the other end so it has some slack, all right?” Byleth nods and complies. _

_ With a little time and a long stick, they manage to lure the fox out of its hole so Jeralt can grab it by the scruff of the neck and loosen the snare that had been pulled tight enough to draw blood. Once the snarling animal is free, he releases it, and they watch it bound away into the trees. He looks over at his daughter and sees her brow is furrowed in thought. _

_ He plops down onto the soft pine needles and pats the space next to him for her to sit down. “What’s on your mind, kid?” _

_ She picks up a twig and snaps it in half, the pieces falling to the forest floor. “Why did it bite me? I was just trying to help it.” _

_ He chuckles and ruffles her messy hair. “I know you were, kid. But it was just scared of you and trying to protect itself. They can’t talk, so they have to use teeth and claws. Even a rabbit can give a nasty bite to someone who isn’t paying attention.” Byleth’s blue eyes grew wide. “An animal is most dangerous when it is cornered and feels like it has nowhere to go. So I want you to be careful in the future, all right?” _

_ Byleth nods, understanding written on her face.  _

_ Jeralt smiles and stands, holding his hand out to help her up. “What do you say we head on back to camp?” _

* * *

Byleth was about a day’s trek from Garreg Mach monastery by her estimation. Despite the proximity to the school, the valley she was in was rather isolated, with steep mountain peaks surrounding it, and would cause difficulty for any large group to traverse quickly and unnoticed.

The day was cool and heavy with the threat of more rain after the morning’s showers. The trees were gilded orange and gold, and the sound of water falling from the canopy through the glistening leaves kept her company as she meandered along the slow-moving river at the base of the mountains. As she followed it she noted that there would likely be plenty of fish to catch here.

There was no need for haste this day. Her quarry had made no pretense of hiding her tracks the night before, and a clear path of snapped saplings and branches made for an easy trail to follow. The two of them had fallen into a sort of pattern; Byleth would make progress during the daylight hours, and the other seemed only willing to travel at night, taking shelter in a cave when possible or finding some sort of resting place during the day. Today though, that cycle would break.

Around midday the path wandered away from the river’s edge and into the dense forest. Byleth noted marks on several trees, where bark had been raked off by sharp claws, but they were not fresh. A bear, most likely. A bear that would likely not reside much longer in this valley if it still did at all. 

Soon, the trail led her to what she hoped she would find: a cave. Framed by crawling tree roots and moss, the entrance was a good size, perhaps three times her height, rather narrow, but from what she could tell from a safe distance, it opened up further inside. 

Curiosity getting the better of her, Byleth took a step forward to get a better look, but her foot found a branch that had been obscured by the carpet of fallen leaves with an echoing  _ snap. _ She froze, hoping her transgression had not been noticed. 

One second, two seconds. Byleth was about to let out the breath she held caged, when a low, rumbling growl echoed out of the cave. Slowly, she put her hand on the blade at her waist, and waited for any signs of movement. Nothing. Not willing to test her luck further, Byleth retreated back the way she came until the river was in faint earshot again.

The trees thinned near the river, and Byleth found a suitable location to set up camp: flat, and a stony ledge on one side providing shelter from wind. The river was shallow here, and provided an ample number of smooth rocks to build a low wall for a campfire, though she did not light it yet. Lamenting the fact she had no pole or line to fish, she made do with a simple meal of mushrooms and berries she had collected earlier that morning.

For the rest of the day, Byleth meditated. Letting thoughts, worries, hopes wash in and out of her mind like the moon-drenched tide, she sat cross-legged and still. She steeled her mind for what she might have to do that night if things did not play out as she expected. While it was true she always had the option of using the power gifted to her by Sothis if things went awry, as she had found with the death of Jeralt, some events in time were fated to be fixed. Her gut told her whatever way tonight went, that’s what the universe wanted to happen, and who was she to stop it?

Her face grew warm as she felt the rain clouds leave to be replaced by the afternoon sun. It was nice here. Her mind briefly flitted to the idea of not going back to the monastery, but- no. Too many people were counting on her, trusting her to provide leadership. She couldn’t do that to Seteth, to Dimitri. They had probably already grown concerned at her absence. Seteth, bless him, would be organizing search parties within the next month if she did not return. Still, the thought of going back to being a simple mercenary was comforting, and it entertained her until sundown.

Alas, the brief moment of warmth was soon to flee, and as the late autumn chill reached through Byleth’s cloak, she rose to gather firewood for the night. There was no need to build a towering blaze like she had done on previous nights, she was close enough to be found easily. She built just enough of a fire to keep her comfortably warm, and settled down to wait.

The rose gold of sunset faded into dusk, and dusk gave way to a moonless night. Byleth gazed up to the stars, tracing the constellations her father had pointed out to her as a child. She wondered what he would think of her now, if he would approve of her choices. She hoped he would, and rubbed the scar on her hand where a scared fox had bitten her so long ago.

Several hours passed. The shadows of the forest closed in around her as her fire dimmed, the flames growing lazy and small. She was contemplating throwing another log on the pile when a gust of cool air fanned the flames for her, releasing a cascade of glowing sparks up into the heavens. 

As rapidly as it had blazed, the fire receded again, and as Byleth’s eyes dropped from the stars above, she found the pitch black shadow of the treeline against the stars above to have gained a new, familiar shape. It would easily be mistaken for another tree if not for the pair of glowing red eyes staring down at her.

“Hello, Edelgard.”

The eyes drew back slightly, as if the mention of her name had caused her to flinch.

A rattling breath, and after a moment, a voice rusted from months of disuse replied. “So. You have finally grown tired of toying with me. Are you here to finally put an end to my sordid existence?”

“No.”

“Then  _ why _ ? Why must you torture me so? I am haunted day and night by you.”

Byleth sighed. “I… I don’t fully know why I’m here. Just that I have to be.” Words had never been easy for her, but for once they came tumbling out in earnest. “Things shouldn’t have turned out this way. I’m sorry, Edelgard. I’m sorry that you felt you had no other choice than to become-”

“Become what? A hideous monster that children scream in terror at? A wretched beast that nature herself doesn’t wish to exist?” She spat her words out, the growling tone underneath growing deeper. “Now, I suppose, my exterior matches my interior.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Edelgard.”

“No? Well, then you are a greater fool than I believed you to be,  _ professor, _ ” the last word said in a mocking tone.

“No. You almost killed that girl, didn’t you? I know you didn’t want to do that. There is still human in you yet.”

She heard the sharp crack as a branch snapped. “You know nothing about me anymore.” Her voice was low, strained with frustration.

Byleth was silent a moment. “I know that I want to help you, Edelgard. I’m not sure how, but I want to try.”

The red eyes across the fire bored into her soul. “Leave. Me. Alone.” Each word was a threatening rumble.

Byleth continued, unphased. “If you stay here, I can protect you. This valley is isolated, and the Knights of Seiros won’t find you, I’ll make sure of it.”

The infernal crimson eyes disappeared and for a moment Byleth thought she had left in disgust, but a dry, creaking sound grew steadily louder and she realized it was wry laughter.

“Where else can I go? You have made it clear to me I am thoroughly and sorely beaten. Very well. I will stay, a feral beast caught in your pen. But be warned: like your dear prince said, the Edelgard you once knew is long gone. Who knows how long I will be able to hang on to the faint memory of her?” She stepped forward just far enough that the light from the fire could illuminate the faint outline of her face. Despite the bitter anger in her words, Byleth could just make out dark trails, slick with moisture at the corners of her eyes.

“I will stay, you have my word. But don’t come back.”

As silently as she had appeared, the shadow melted back into the forest, and Byleth was alone once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, they've finally met! again, I want to thank everyone who's left such lovely comments! Ya'll give me life and sustenance.
> 
> Find me @Queen_of_Hz on twitter. I'm not that weird I swear.


	5. A Touch

_ She wakes up in a hospital bed three days after the fight in the throne room. Judging by the biting light streaming in the windows, it’s mid-afternoon. At first, she thinks she’s alone in the room, but a small snore alerts her to Flayn’s presence, blending in perfectly with the overflowing table of flowers and gifts at the side of her bed. In her lap, precarious and on the edge of falling, is a set of knitting needles and a half finished object that could possibly be a hat, she isn’t quite sure. _

_ Her head aches, and it takes her a minute or two to remember what exactly happened to her to land her in an infirmary yet again. Ah yes. Edelgard. If she closed her eyes again she could almost see those haunting red eyes again, desperate for something, but what she could not tell. _

_ Her throat is dry; she shifts on the bed to see if there is water anywhere, and Flayn wakes with an “Oh!” Knitting needles clang to the floor, forgotten, as the girl leaps to her feet. _

_ “Professor, you are awake! We have all been so worried! You sit tight, l’ll go find Mercedes and the other healers.” Before a word can be said, Flayn scurries out the infirmary door. Minutes later, a wave of healers, well-wishers, and Seteth bustle into the room. They busy themselves asking questions about how she feels, if there’s any pain, how many fingers are they holding up. Her headache is whisked away by a cool hand aglow in white healing light but the endless questioning threatens to bring it back with a vengeance. _

_ She tries to say she’s fine, really, but either nobody hears her or believes her or both, until a stern voice from the back of the crowd halts the poking and prodding. Seteth- bless him, orders everyone who isn’t himself or Mercedes out of the room. They slowly file out, mumbling congratulations and words of encouragement. Mercedes quietly confirms that she seems to be in good health, only requiring another day of bed rest to make sure there are no lingering side effects of having a Ragnarok spell nearly dropped on one’s head, and leaves. Her throat is still parched. _

_ Seteth assures her that Dimitri is fine (internally she is rather surprised at herself that her first thought upon waking was Edelgard rather than the young prince, and makes a mental note to unpack that at a later time) and has been up and about since yesterday. She can expect a visit from him when he returns from his inspection of the captured imperial troops. He updates her on the status of the Archbishop, who is recovering in another room after suffering severe malnourishment in the palace dungeon. She nods along as he lays out details of efforts immediately underway to placate the restless population of Enbarr; distributing supplies and offering medical aid seem to be winning people over more and more each day. _

_ Several minutes into Seteth’s report, she yawns. He stops mid-sentence with an amused smile. “Ah of course, you must still be exhausted from recovery, Professor. Please excuse my thoughtlessness. The rest can wait until tomorrow.” _

_ He turns to leave, but as he crosses the foot of her bed, he hesitates and stands before the open window, clasping his hands behind his back. His shadow falls across the thin blanket at her feet. “There’s one more thing I would like to mention. Dimitri fell unconscious upon hitting the floor, which leaves you as the sole witness to the ultimate fate of Emperor Edelgard. While there is no question that the final spell you cast was devastating enough to destroy half the platform you stood on, curiously no remains of her body were found. Therefore one must come to the conclusion that the blast was concentrated enough to destroy the entire body after it reverted to human form, much like the students we saw that were transformed by the crest stones. Additionally, the shockwave from the blast must have been the cause of the shattered window above the throne. Does this theory parallel the actual events as you experienced them, Byleth?” _

_ She swallows thickly. Why was there no water here still? “Yes, that’s… That’s how I remember it,” she says with what she hopes was some measure of confidence. _

_ He turns his head and regards her with one eye. “That is reassuring to hear, my friend. A creature like that let free to roam across Fodlan would certainly cause a good deal of trouble and unnecessary death, don’t you agree?” His words are deliberate and pointed. _

_ “Of course, Seteth.” She should have known Seteth, ever the perceptive one, would have noticed something was awry. She is thankful he is not the type to act rashly, Dimitri would not be so receptive to such knowledge. She can only hope that he trusts her enough to let things be. _

_ “Very well then,” he says, mouth a set line. “I’ll leave you to your rest, professor. Lots of people are looking forward to seeing you up and about.” _

_ He leaves the room, and she slumps back down onto the pillows, letting sleep take her again. _

* * *

She returned to Garreg Mach monastery late the next day. As she had predicted, Seteth, Flayn, and a good portion of the Knights of Seiros had already arrived several weeks earlier. Almost immediately she is whisked away by Flayn to the second floor of the church, updating her on what she had missed while she was away, as well as the several varieties of fish she had tasted while on the road from Enbarr. 

They reached the second floor strategy room, which served as a makeshift classroom for the last few months of the war. Inside, Dimitri, Seteth, and Gilbert were set around the large table in the middle of the room, voices hushed and faces somber. 

“Brother! Look who the cat has dragged in!” Flayn said, beaming. 

Dimitri stood and met them in the middle of the room, embracing her in a tight hug. “It is good to see your face, Professor! I was beginning to believe you would not return before I left for Fhirdiad.” He released her and stepped back, grinning. “I was a bit surprised to hear from Seteth that you would be taking some time to yourself, but I suppose I am not one to judge a person on how they process such violent experiences.”

Seteth stepped out from behind Dimitri’s fur-covered shoulder. “Yes, professor, it is most fortuitous that you arrived when you did. We were just beginning to consider sending out search parties, in fact.”

She nodded. “Yes, my time spent away was most… refreshing. I apologize for not returning sooner than I did.”

Dimitri laid a hand on her shoulder. “Nonsense, professor. Now, let’s update you on the reunification efforts so far…” 

That night, and days after, were filled with endless meetings with lords about reparations and distribution of relief aid, and when it wasn’t that it was slowly getting lessons from Seteth about the duties of the position of Archbishop. The only constant thing she could rely on were dreams every night bookended with two glowing red eyes staring at her from the darkness.

* * *

It was almost three weeks before Byleth was able to divest herself enough from her ever-growing pile of duties to be able to leave the monastery again. Reassuring Seteth that she would only be gone for a couple days, she set off at the first light of dawn. Her breath puffed in the air in front of her as she made her way through the winding mountains. Being familiarized with the path she had to take this time, she was able to shorten her journey by several hours and made it back to Edelgard’s valley by late afternoon. At the mouth of the valley, she stopped for a moment to admire the view. If she hastened, she could make it back to her campsite before sundown. She adjusted the pack she carried on her back, it was bulky and quite heavy, but she hoped that at least some of it would be unnecessary to carry back on the return trip. She pulled her hands together to breathe some warmth into them, and continued down into the valley.

The bright leaves of autumn had all but fallen to the forest floor by this time of year, and the bare trees above her arched like the vaulted ceilings in the monastery’s chapel, casting long shadows in the evening light as she walked. As she got closer to the opposite end of the valley, she noticed more and more snapped trees and fallen limbs that had been broken off and tossed aside, creating traversable spaces through the dense forest. 

Reaching her campsite, she noticed the carefully-built circle of stones she had placed for her fire had been knocked aside and scattered across the campsite. She sighed, dropped her pack at the edge of the clearing, and began the task of picking up each stone and placing it back where it belonged in the circle. Once that was finished, she took out a small hatchet from her pack and began gathering branches and kindling for the fire. 

As she circled the outskirts of the clearing, she noticed several familiar footprints. Some were old and covered in leaves, others were more recent, left in softer soil, and a few, she was glad to see, looked to have been made within only a few days. Most of these tracks carefully skirted the perimeter of the clearing, save for one set, which seemed to be left from when the stones had been knocked aside.

Finally gathering enough firewood to last the night, Byleth dragged over a dead and dried log she had found near the river to sit on, pulled some dried meat and cheese out of her pack, and sat down to wait as the sun fell below the mountain peaks. She waited as the sky grew dark and the waxing moon showed its face through the bare skeletons of the trees above. The fire cracked and popped, providing just enough warmth to keep away the early winter chill. Somewhere far away a wolf howled, and was soon joined by another on the opposite side of the valley.

She waited until she heard what she was listening for. Her back against the boulder making up one wall of the campsite, she heard a snapping of branches to her left, just beyond the reach of the fire’s flickering light.

“You’re back.” Her voice was just above a whisper.

“You knew I would be,” Byleth said. She started to turn, to meet the red eyes she saw so often in her dreams now, but at the motion there was a hurried shuffle of dried leaves as she moved backwards.

“No, don’t… Don’t turn around. Don’t look at me.” Her voice was pleading, wavering, and Byleth felt a tug of something deep in her chest to hear it. 

Byleth slowly moved her eyes back to the fire. “Okay, Edelgard. I won’t.” After a moment, she heard Edelgard take a few steps closer again. “Can we talk?”

She hears a tired sigh from behind her. “Very well. Although I am afraid I have become a poor conversation partner as of late.”

“That makes two of us,” Byleth said, poking the fire with a stick, considering her next words. “How have you been?” She immediately realized she was off to a poor start as a harsh bark of laughter echoed through the trees.

Edelgard’s voice changed to a bitter tone, far from the one who pleaded for Byleth not to turn around but moments before. “Please, professor. You are smarter than that. How have I_ been _ ? Half the time now I’m not sure I even _ am _. Am I destined to become a living revenant, a forgotten echo of the person I once was? Do not mock me with such drivel.” 

Byleth continued poking at the embers of the fire. “Of course not, Edelgard.” She grew silent a moment, then, “I have to know though, is there no way you know of to reverse this process? Surely you must have had some idea when you- when you became-”

“No,” she interrupted curtly. “This was a last ditch effort of a foolish and desperate girl, who was abandoned as yet another failed experiment as soon as she proved to be worthless to those who performed the procedure.”

Byleth stayed quiet, gradually processing the information. Minutes passed, yet the figure in the shadows did not move away. Quietly, “Do you _ want _ me to try and help you, Edelgard?” 

She hears an intake of breath, and then slowly, ever so slowly, she heard the soft steps of feet on dried leaves pad closer. From behind, Edelgard whispered softly, “Can you?”

Gently placing the stick in her hand back down on the ground, Byleth took a breath. “May I turn around, Edelgard?” When no response came, she leaned forward and slowly stood up. She moved deliberately, making no quick or hurried movements, and turned to the towering figure now standing just within the warm light cast from the fire. Her eyes moved up, up, until they met Edelgard’s, who shrank back slightly, her arms raised to her chest.

“It’s okay, Edelgard. I’m not going to hurt you.” Byleth moved her arms away from her body to indicate that she, in fact, had no weapons on her. Edelgard didn’t respond, but she lowered her clasped hands slightly, though Byleth could see them trembling almost imperceptibly. Edelgard’s face was shrouded in deep shadows, but Byleth could see strands of her pale white hair framing her face. The golden crown, once intricately and delicately woven into her hair, had become loose and askew, one horned side dangling and in danger of nearly falling off.

“Edelgard… Will you kneel down?”

Edelgard blinked. Then, haltingly, she brought her body to a kneeling position. Byleth tried not to think about the fact that they were in much the same arrangement many moons ago in the throne room. Byleth reached up towards Edelgard’s face slowly, but even that simple movement caused her to twitch and close her eyes. 

“It’s all right, Edelgard,” Byleth murmured. Gently, she brought both hands up and worked at untangling her long white hair from the elaborate headpiece, first the one already nearly falling off, then the other. Edelgard trembled slightly at her first touch, but as Byleth continued her ministrations, she could feel Edelgard faintly leaning into her hands. 

Once both horns had been tossed to the ground, Byleth loosely combed her fingers through the long white hair, dislodging several twigs and leaves that had found their way into it. Edelgard had opened her eyes at this point and silently watched Byleth work. Her breath had evened out, but Byleth could still sense a great tension held in her tall form.

She was just about to consider her work finished and started to pull away when her hand caught on a hidden knot of hair at the base of Edelgard’s scalp. The sudden jolt of pain released a sharp snarl from the back of Edelgard’s throat, and Byleth quickly pulled back, her hand instinctively flying to her waist where a sword would normally hang. 

Edelgard’s eyes darted to where Byleth’s hands lay, and then down to the glistening golden crown at her feet. Rage dashed across her face and in a swift motion she stood to her full height.

“Now you can see all that stands before you is nothing more than a monster. I will not tell you again. Don’t come back.” With that, she turned and disappeared back into the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me @Queen_of_Hz on Twitter!


	6. (alone)

There now, look what you did. You’re alone now.  _ We’re _ alone now. This is what you wanted, is it not?

(no)

You saw the way she looked at you. She was ready to put you down like a dog. A rabid beast. That is all you are.

(no, I… I didn’t want to scare her)

No? Didn’t you smell how good she would taste? It would be so easy, you know. A quick squeeze of your hand and  _ snap _ . She is right to be afraid.

(no)

She is a fool, it seems. Taking  _ pity _ on a wretched creature such as yourself? Laughable. Why you would degrade yourself like you have done so is beyond me.

(it... felt nice)

_ Nice? _ I was mistaken, you are the fool here. Do you think she cares how you feel? She is only using you. Keeping you here, her curious pet for when she gets bored.

(be quiet)

* * *

It’s been a while now, hasn’t it? Maybe she really has gotten bored of you. 

(she will come back.)

She won’t. You are pathetic. How do you feel right now?

(cold. hungry.)

That’s all? You can’t hide anything from me.

(be quiet.)

I know what you dream about. That you wake from sleep longing for her touch again. To soothe your aching bones. Do you think you deserve that? After all the people you killed? 

(Be quiet.)

She has left you alone to die, cold, alone, and in pain. Just like you wanted, after all. Just as you deserve.

(Be quiet!)

I will not go away that easily, my dear. You know that I am right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me @Queen_of_Hz on Twitter


	7. Toss a Fish to Your Monster

If there was anything she hated most in the world, it was paperwork. A pen in her hand felt about as natural as using a battleaxe to chop vegetables. She sighed and signed yet another approval form for the Knights of Seiros to send aid to a village recently attacked by bandits. A requisitions order for supplies to repair the damaged walls of the monastery. A polite but firm denial of the eastern church’s request for funds to construct a chapel near the Almyran border. The wooden chair she sat in grew more uncomfortable by the minute.

And yet, somehow, Seteth actually  _ enjoyed _ this part of his job. Found it relaxing, even. He stated as much three days ago, handing her the stack of paperwork, droning on about it being “crucial to understand the fundamental mechanics of how the Church operates within Fodlan” or something equally as dry. As a professor, she had been required to record monthly reports on her student’s progress, but even those she often would bribe Hanneman with cooperation in his research or Manuela with a sandwich. There were no such shortcuts with this work, unfortunately.

The minutes ticked by, and the shadows cast by the afternoon sun through the warped glass window panes grew longer at an excruciating rate. The wind outside howled, rattling the window in its frame and breaking the dusty silence that filled the small office. Unbidden, her mind wandered out of the monastery, over the jagged mountains, to a certain cave in a certain valley currently inhabited by a certain former emperor. This was hardly the first time her mind had been occupied by this subject matter. The oncoming winter season worried her; while it was obvious that Edelgard’s physiology and constitution had been altered significantly, she was not sure to what extent she would be able to withstand the cold. Another visit was in order, disguised as a simple fishing trip. Seteth would not be pleased, but then again, when was he ever?

She dropped her quill on the desk. The report she had been unsuccessfully attempting to concentrate on for the past twenty minutes would have to wait until another day. Perhaps another year for all she cared. She stood, the chair scraping against the wooden floor, and stretched. Time for dinner. She offered a quick prayer to Sothis that it wasn’t Flayn’s turn to cook that night.

* * *

The fishing pole bumped awkwardly against Byleth’s back as she trekked through the forest. The trail she followed was quickly becoming familiar to her, marked only by landmarks memorized in her head. Any physical trail markers left would be too much of a risk of being discovered. She was pretty sure nobody at the monastery would have a reason to follow her on what was a seemingly normal fishing trip, but years of being a mercenary had taught her never to be too careful.

Byleth wasn’t _technically_ lying when she claimed she wanted to get some quality fishing time in before the winter snows came. She fully intended on using the pole on her back to catch her supper. That just wasn’t the _whole_ reason for the trip. If Sothis still resided in her head, she probably would have approved of the whole ruse.

Leaving before dawn that morning, she had made good time. The blue sky was crisp with the beginning of winter, and she could see the puff of her breath almost until noon. She had dressed appropriately warmly for the season; lined gloves and a knit scarf given to her by Flayn a few weeks ago kept her comfortable, and a thick cloak insulated her almost too well, causing her to break out in a light sweat when the path took her up a particularly steep incline.

Shortly after entering that familiar valley, something caught her eye. A bare deer skull grinned up from her from a pile of brown and decaying leaves. Not an unusual find in the forest by any means; mother nature was as cruel as she was kind. What caught her eye, however, was what remained of the rest of the creature. The bones had been smashed and splintered to bits, the largest piece no longer than the small dagger at her hip. Investigating further, each bone had been scraped clean, leaving nothing behind. Even the marrow within had been devoured, with not a drop left.

Standing up from the carcass, Byleth hitched her pack higher on her back and continued on her way. The discovery assuaged one of her concerns; plucking domesticated farm animals from their pens was one thing, hunting wildlife was an entirely different demonic beast. 

She could only hope the available game in the area was enough to sustain a fifteen foot creature through the winter. Now that she had begun to gain Edelgard’s delicate trust, leaving her to starve would be unacceptable. That fear aside, she still felt a twinge of guilt in her gut. Was she even doing the right thing? Or was this all an elaborate excuse to avoid her duties as the next Archbishop? Certainly as soon as she shed the robes and stepped beyond Garreg Mach’s walls she felt less like a puppet tied to the church and more like herself. 

* * *

_“You have a duty, Byleth. You have a duty to the church, to the people, to Fodlan. You are no longer a mercenary, and cannot keep leaving at a moment's notice to go traipsing around the mountains alone.” Seteth’s voice lowered. “I was to understand your little _problem _had been taken care of. Is that not the case?” His disapproving glare pierced into her so far she was almost sure he could read every thought in her head._

_ “It has been. You have not heard any reason to be concerned since I have returned, have you not?” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, hoping to project a confident air. _

_ “While it is true there have been no further mysterious reports from outside the castle, I am beginning to see I have a reason to be concerned sitting right in front of me.” He stood up from his desk and began pacing, something he only did when he was worried. There was a distinctly worn path along the carpet as he did so. “I understand that you did not choose this role. But you must accept that, like it or not, the people look to you, the one chosen by Sothis, to unite Fodlan during this difficult time. You are archbishop to them in everything but name only now.”  _

_ Seteth paused his pacing to pick up a folded piece of parchment from his desk. “I received this letter from Rhea yesterday. Her recovery in the south is proceeding as expected, and she should be fit to return to the monastery as soon as spring arrives.” He fixed her with a pointed glare. “I sincerely hope your ‘restlessness’ will settle down in time for the Archbishop’s return.” _

_ Byleth responded with only a curt nod and left the room. _

* * *

She reached her now-familiar campsite early in the afternoon. This time, nothing strewn about or displaced. In fact, she could make out a worn path in the dirt carefully skirting the perimeter of the clearing and heading towards the river. There was no sign of the one who made the tracks, however, Byleth figured she would make her presence known soon enough.

The pack of supplies hanging from a nearby branch still remained as she had left it to her great pleasure. The sky to the north looked a bit grim, and she hoped that whatever it would bring would not be too much for the small tent she had brought. Once it was pitched, she headed towards the river. Time to catch something to eat.

The river was considerably lower than it had been the last time she was in the valley, and revealed a large, flat rock that would serve nicely as a point to set up her pole. Within minutes of her first cast she could feel the tension in her that had built up within the monastery melt away with the gentle babbling of the river. 

The fish were eager to bite that day, and it was not long after she cast her line that she felt a tug. Muscle memory took over, and there was nothing sweeter than the familiar feeling of reeling in- not too quickly yet not too roughly. Finally pulling the fish from the river, she unhooked it and tossed it on the shore behind her in one quick motion, and readied another piece of bait. This comforting pattern repeated itself for nearly an hour, but Byleth had long since stopped keeping track of the time.

What eventually snapped her out of her trance was when, after reeling in small but particularly stubborn loach, it did not land on the grassy shore behind her with the typical  _ thud _ but rather a wet  _ splat _ .

A familiar winged silhouette reflected on the water in front of her. Not turning around, Byleth prepared another piece of bait and cast her line again. She spoke calmly, “Hope you like fish.” 

The towering figure behind her huffed out a resigned sigh. “Why do you insist on coming back?”

Byleth countered the question with her own, “Why do you insist on staying? You could have crossed the border into Almyra by now if you’d wanted.”

She could see Edelgard’s wings flare in the distorted reflection before her, then slump downward. After a beat, she replied softly, “I’m… not sure why. I’m not sure why I do a lot of things anymore.” Byleth heard a small splash as Edelgard stepped into the water a few feet downstream. From the corner of her eye, she watched as the towering form lowered herself to sit on the bank, curling her rope-like tail around her body and across her lap. Despite her size, the action could have almost been described as ‘dainty.’

The two of them were comfortably silent for a while as Byleth fought with, and eventually lost, a bite on her line. Reeling in and casting out again, she said, “I meant what I said last time I was here. I want to try to help you, Edelgard.” For the first time, she turned her head to look at the former Emperor’s face. Their eyes met through a curtain of snow-white hair, and Edelgard visibly flinched.

Quickly regaining her composure, Edelgard returned Byleth’s gaze. “How?”

“This valley is secluded enough, and I can keep the Knights of Seiros patrols from coming near.” Byleth let out a wry chuckle. “Turns out being the new Archbishop has some perks.”

Blinking, surprise briefly flashed across Edelgard’s face. “Is that truly what you wanted?”

Byleth smiled and turned back to her pole. “You always were a perceptive student. I didn’t exactly have a choice, I suppose. It’s what Fodlan wants, at least. I don’t even know what I’m doing half the time, to be honest.”

This time, it was Edelgard’s turn to let out a growling bark of laughter. “I remember when you first arrived at the monastery all those years ago, you hadn’t the faintest idea what the church even was.” She lazily swung her tail out and dipped the tip of it in the water in front of her, drawing circles in the rippling surface before flicking it toward Byleth, splashing her with ice cold water. “Fate has played some cruel tricks on the both of us, it seems.”

Byleth wiped the drops of water from her face and said, “Yes. I do know one thing though. I want to work to rid Fodlan on its dependence on crests. They’re not worth any of… this. Too many people have been harmed, families torn apart, in the name of crests.”

Another amused growl. “Good luck getting  _ him  _ to see your side.” She dropped her tail into the water again, this time with a greater  _ splash _ . Then, in a smaller, almost timid voice she asked, “What will… happen to me, in your new world?”

Not replying immediately, Byleth stood, reeling in her line for the final time. She looked up at Edelgard, meeting her glowing red eyes. With Edelgard sitting, they were now almost at eye level.

“I will protect you, Edelgard. I’m sorry I failed to do so before. Maybe if I had chosen the Black Eagles as my class all those years ago, things would be different.”

Edelgard held Byleth’s gaze as she picked up one of the larger fish Byleth had caught and raised it to her mouth. Her face, which had remained the most human after her transformation, morphed into a nightmarish grin as her cheeks split open past her hairline, revealing rows of impossibly sharp teeth. A slick tongue darted out, wrapping around the fish, and it disappeared in a single gulp. As quickly as it happened, the ghastly visage was gone again and Edelgard’s face was back to how it had looked a minute ago.

“I wonder, who will need protection from whom, if I am to be like this forever?”

* * *

They spent the rest of the evening together in a steady silence. Byleth insisted on cooking the rest of the fish for Edelgard, despite her protests that she was fine eating them raw. As nightfall set in, the dark clouds from the north brought with them a howling wind that caused Byleth to pull her hood up and wrap her cloak tighter.

“You intend to spend the night in that?” Edelgard gestured toward the tent Byleth had set up.

“I’ve camped outside in worse conditions as a mercenary. I’ll be ok.”

As if on cue, white flakes began to fall from the sky, heavy and wet. The fire sputtered as the cold wind battered at it. Edelgard sighed and stood to her full height, turning away from the swiftly fading fire.

“Come.”

They made their way through the forest, the trees around them groaning as the wind twisted their branches. Reaching the cave that Edelgard had made her home, Byleth stopped just outside the entrance. 

Edelgard stooped to fit inside the cave opening, her wings tucked as close to her body as possible to avoid scraping the walls. She proceeded further in, to where Byleth could barely make out her hulking shape in the darkness.

“You may sleep here.”

Byleth hesitated a moment before following Edelgard into the darkness. When she was a few yards inside, she could see the cave continued on and was much deeper than she had initially thought, but Edelgard held up a long, clawed finger. 

“That’s as far as you may enter. You will not come any further into the cave.” 

“I understand. Thank you, Edelgard.” 

Edelgard hesitated for a moment. “This arrangement is only because if you were to be foolish enough to freeze to death, I would have unwanted knights poking around here looking for you. That’s all.”

Byleth smiled to herself, “Of course, Edelgard. Good night.”

* * *

Later that night, Byleth awoke as a low howling sound pierced her dreams. Evidently the storm outside had yet to let up. She rolled over in her sleeping bag and buried her head deeper in an effort to preserve a bit of warmth. She had almost fallen back to sleep when the howling echoed through the cave again.

Something wasn’t right. She poked her head out and listened closer. As she focused, the howling tapered off into what sounded like a groan, and in fact was not coming from outside the cave at all. No longer sleepy in the slightest, Byleth sat up and tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness in the cave.

“...no!”

This time it definitely sounded like Edelgard’s distorted voice echoing through the cave, but she could not make out anything other than the last syllable. At that cry, she decided to disregard Edelgard’s previous warning, and followed the echoing cry deeper into the cave.

She followed the cave wall, snapping her fingers and conjuring a tiny fire mote in her hand to light the way. Several yards in, the cave opened up into a wider cavern, where she could finally make out a familiar dark form curled up. Now she could hear a faint whimpering sound coming from the creature before her.

“Father, I’m sor-” Edelgard’s cry was broken by a sharp sob as her body jerked and trembled, her tail and wings lashing about her. At the sudden movement, Byleth stumbled backwards, extinguishing the light in her hand and accidentally kicking a small pile of rocks at her feet. The tumbling stones echoed throughout the chamber.

Immediately the sleeping figure before her ceased crying out. A glowing pair of crimson eyes snapped open and focused on Byleth. 

“Get. Out.” Edelgard’s voice was a razor’s edge.

Without a word, Byleth retreated back to the cave entrance, and wrapped herself in her sleeping bag. Sleep did not come for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, baby!
> 
> Apologies for the huge delay in chapters, my life got a bit hectic there for awhile! Please note the newly added total chapter number is likely to change by one or two as things develop.
> 
> As always, find me on Twitter @Queen_Of_Hz
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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